


If Tomorrow Never Comes

by gryvon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Anxiety, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, Guide Stiles Stilinski, Implied Mpreg, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, Knotting, Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Pack Dynamics, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sentinel Peter Hale, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 08:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16636571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryvon/pseuds/gryvon
Summary: Stiles should know better than to trust an offer that seems too good to be true, especially when it comes from Erica. He's supposed to be staying in Erica and Boyd's apartment, not this stupidly ridiculous Hale Pack mansion with Sentinel Prime Peter Hale, who Stiles has an enormous crush on.





	If Tomorrow Never Comes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Green](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/gifts).



> I didn't tag for Major Character Death since the Sheriff dies off-screen well before the story takes place. Basically, Orphan Stiles gets adopted by the Hales in college.

Stiles should know better than to trust an offer that seems too good to be true, especially when it comes from Erica. In his defense, he’d just gone through a hellish month of defending his dissertation while writing half a dozen final papers, grading tests from the two classes he’s TAing, packing his whole life into the back of a car, and panicking over what he was going to do with the rest of his life now that he’s done with school. He’s a ball of nerves and stress fueled by caffeine so he hadn’t questioned Erica’s offer to stay with her and Boyd in Beacon Hills.

He doesn’t realize what’s happening until Erica's Prius stops in front of a large mansion in the middle of the Beacon Hills Preserve. Dread mixes with anticipation in the pit of his stomach. He should have assumed Erica would pull something like this. He’s pretty sure Laura is ultimately to blame.

Nix is the exact opposite. Stiles's red fox spirit animal yips and puts her paws on the dash to peer at the house. If she were a real animal, Erica's windshield would be covered in nose prints. Nix looks between Stiles and the house and gives a happy bark.

"Erica!" he hisses. "What are you doing?"

The look she gives him is a mix of sass and mischief. "You need a place to stay. This is a place to stay." She gestures to the mansion. It's ridiculously sized by anyone's standards. The fact that it's full of werewolves and other supernaturals only adds to the intimidation factor.

Nix turns to him and wags her fluffy tail with excitement. He can feel her hopefulness.

"No! What!? No!" He can't stop staring at the house. It's really absurd. Excessive even. "You said I could stay with you and Boyd. In an apartment. You said you had a spare bedroom in your apartment."

She shrugs. "It's like an apartment."

"No!" Stiles's outrage is loud in the closed vehicle. Nix ducks and flattens her ears. Stiles drops his voice. He scratches Nix behind the ears in apology but it does little to curb his growing anxiety. He should probably dig out a Xanax. He has a feeling he'll need it. "This is nothing like an apartment. This is.... It's...."

Erica grins. "Awesome? Amazing? Everything you've ever wanted in life?"

Her words hit far too close to home. He has never, ever so much as hinted at wanting to be part of his friends' pack, though he'd be lying if he hadn't felt a bit of envy whenever they went home to Beacon Hills during breaks while he stayed in dorm housing. He’s heard so much about their packmates that he feels like he knows them.

Still, this kind of thing isn't for him. "I can't stay here. Are you kidding? This is a pack house. I am not pack."

Erica stares at him. "You could be. Laura, Cora, and Derek adore you. They'd put in a good word with Talia. We all would." Nix adds her agreement with a quick series of yips and bounces on his lap.

Stiles stares. Laura Hale had been his RA freshman year and for some reason known only to her, she'd taken Stiles in as a pet. Her words, not his, he's stopped trying to correct her. With Laura had come his Laura-appointed bodyguard Derek, then later Cora, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Lydia, and Jackson. It's an overwhelming number of people who all have an interest in his boring life. To add the rest of the Hale pack to that....

He shakes his head. He feels like he's going to puke. "I'll stay at a motel until I find my own place." Nix whines in disappointment. "This is.... It's too much. Did you even clear this with Alpha Hale?"

"Of course," Erica says. "She's excited to meet you. Now come on." She gets out of the car with a grin.

There is no way Stiles is getting out of the car. He can.... He'll hotwire it if he needs to. He'll walk back to town.

Nix looks at him expectantly and scratches at the window.

Erica crosses her arms on the other side of the door. "Stiles, get out of the car."

He peers at the house. "Erica, why are there decorations?" There are paper lanterns hanging from the porch and streamers wrapped around the banisters.

He may or may not take off running depending on the next words out of Erica's mouth.

She rolls her eyes, thank gods. "It’s a graduation party for the pack. Calm down. It’s not about you. God, this is your nineteenth birthday party all over again."

He winces. In his defense, he hadn't celebrated his birthday in years and he hates it when people make a fuss over him and he's awful with surprises. The panic attack that ensued landed him in the hospital. He's better now. Mostly.

Nix rubs her face against his. She sends love and acceptance through their bond.

"Stiles, get out of the car.”

Nix excitedly paws at the door. Stiles crosses his arms and slumps in his chair. "What if I refuse?"

Erica's grin turns wolfish with too many teeth and an unholy glee in her eyes. "Then I'll get Laura."

He gets out of the car.

His nerves are in overdrive just from walking up to the house. Instead of leading him through the front door, Erica tugs him around the side of the house. Nix doesn't even look back before taking off toward the party. He gives the car a longing glance. He almost turns around twice. Erica's hold on his wrist is like steel. There's no way he can escape.

The party is in full swing. He has a feeling Erica planned it that way. She'd been very particular about what time they left Stanford. There are far too many people in the Hale's backyard, though really, groups above five make him uncomfortable. The Hale pack is massive, which means their pack plus friends is over fifty people. There are even a few other spirit animals hanging around. Stiles counts maybe half a dozen animal lounging next to their humans. How many Sentinels and Guides are here? He feels like an imposter, like the last six years of training wasn't real.

He's a few centimeters short of clinging to Erica's back as they approach the crowd. There are so many unfamiliar people. He spots Boyd and Jackson but otherwise he's faced with a sea of strangers and gods, he's going to embarrass himself, he just knows it. Stiles is awkward and weird and it's a miracle the contingent of the Hale pack that had been at Stanford University likes him. There's no way he can duplicate that luck.

"Stiles!" Two very familiar shrieks make him flinch and hide behind Erica.

It doesn't help. They've caught his scent now. There's no escape.

Laura knocks him to the ground in a full-body tackle. Cora impacts a second later. His side hurts from where he landed but the weight of two bodies pressing him down is oddly comforting. He'd be content staying here, pinned under the Hale sisters if it meant he didn't have to talk to anyone else.

"Girls, get off our guest."

Oh, gods. An unfamiliar voice. He freezes in panic. Cora and Laura feel him tense and drag him upright with them. They crowd close, one on either side of him, hemming him in as he's faced with a woman he knows from reputation and family photos.

He’s terrified and the fact that she can smell his fear only makes him more afraid.

"Alpha-" His voice comes out as a high-pitched squeak. He coughs and tries again. "A-Alpha Hale." He bares his throat. "May the moon shine upon you and your pack."

Her smile is beautiful. No one told him how nice the Alpha's smile was. It makes him think she is not, in fact, going to tear out his heart and eat it in front of him.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you,” she says. She even sounds nice. “I've heard so many good things."

She brushes her palm across his bare neck. The warmth of the gesture makes him shiver. She ignites an ache inside of him that he'd thought he'd suppressed a long time ago, the longing for the mother he'd lost when he was a child. His terror melts into a deep, deep sorrow.

He doesn't know what to say. If he opens his mouth, he's not entirely sure actual words would come out or if it'd just be some inarticulate screeching.

Laura places a hand on the back of Stiles's neck and squeezes. "Stiles is very happy to meet you, mom. He fails at words sometimes, but I’m an expert translator."

Stiles nods because that is very true. The only reason Stiles has as many friends as he does is because Laura translated for him his first two years at Stanford.

Alpha Hale doesn't look at all put off by his silence. "You don't have to say anything. I want you to do whatever you need to feel comfortable here."

Stiles melts a little. Gods bless this woman.

"Has Erica told you which room you'll be staying in?"

And there goes every scrap of ease. He turns stiff as a board. Laura and Cora have twin sheepish grins.

Alpha Hale lets out a long sigh and presses a hand to her face. "For the love of Fenrir." She offers a sympathetic smile. "They didn't tell you, did they?"

He shakes his head.

"Mooooom," Laura whines. "He would have run away." She turns and pulls Stiles tight against her chest. "I want my cute little pet back."

"Laura! Humans are not pets."

He's pretty sure Laura grumbles "this one is" but the words are hard to make out. He doesn't try to get away. He knows Laura will always, always win. Also, her hugs are magic. He admitted that once while drunk and she's never let him live it down.

A man and woman near the Alpha's age join them. The man's grin matches the Alpha's. "Is this Stiles?"

"Yes," Laura says, the words slightly muffled from where her face is pressed against the top of Stiles's head. "He's mine."

Alpha Hale rolls her eyes. "Laura, no."

"Laura, yes!"

Stiles sighs and tucks his face against her neck. Maybe Laura will let him hide in her closet and he won't have to deal with the exhausting amount of people here.

"This is my husband, Paul," Alpha Hale says. "And my sister Amelia."

Laura makes no move to let him go so he turns his head toward them and offers, "It's a pleasure to meet you." It’s easier to interact when he’s surrounded by Laura.

Alpha Hale turns to the newcomers. "None of them told Stiles he'd be staying here."

"It was supposed to be an apartment," Stiles mumbles. "A nice, quiet apartment."

Cora rubs a hand over Stiles's back. "He's not great with crowds."

"Oh for-" Alpha Hale cuts off the rest of her curse. "No wonder..." She sighs. "Why don't you come inside? It's not as busy inside. Cora, Laura, maybe you can show him around?"

"But I haven't had a chance to meet the infamous Stiles yet," a new voice says.

Nix rubs against Stiles's ankles, trying to get his attention, but all he can think about is how he knows that voice. He's heard it so many times on the news and in interviews and now it's so close and real and he is not prepared. Cora and Laura abandon him, the traitors, leaving him standing alone as he turns to face Peter Hale, Sentinel Prime of Beacon Hills.

The first thing he notices are blue, blue eyes framed by a handsome face with an angular jaw and the softest looking hair. Peter has a hint of a goatee which frames his face nicely. He's dressed in a deep green henley that shows off his muscular chest. Stiles has a moment to register how insanely attractive Peter Hale is, like really, it's unfair how handsome Peter Hale is when Stiles knows he has zero chance. He'd never expected to ever meet him in person except through the evil scheming of his friends.

All of this flashes through his head in half a second and then he's drowning in the deep blue of those incredible eyes. He's distantly aware of Laura saying something but Peter is staring back just as intently.

Stiles's existence narrows. The crowd falls away. The forest is gone and that ridiculous house. There's only Peter and that endless blue.

He's falling. He's terrified because he doesn't know what's happening. He's likely made a fool of himself and the Hales are going to hate him now.

Suddenly he’s seventeen and a werewolf, high on Alpha power after killing the rogue who killed his parents. As tempting as the power is, he doesn’t keep it, not when Talia is about to die. He won’t lose any more family this day. He leaves the woods with a wolf named Romulus and senses sharper than any werewolf.

He’s ten again, still grieving his mother when Kate Argent abducts him from school and uses him as bait to lure his father into a trap. He watches a bloody hole appear in his father's head. He weeps over his dad's body for hours until someone finds them. He screams when they pull him away and pass him from hand to hand until he has no idea where he is or what's going to happen to him. He has no family left so he’s shipped off to a home in Sacramento as soon as his father’s in the ground. Nix appears when the grief and guilt overwhelm him. She promises never to leave him but he's learned that the people he love don't stay.

He’s twenty-one when Kate Argent tries to burn his house down. The fire triggers his first zone out. He’s comatose for three months before a Guide can pull him out of it. The Sentinel Center is his second home while he’s tested and triggered. None of the Guides they introduce him to feel like the right one. He learns coping methods to help keep focus until he finds his Guide.

He’s fourteen when he presents as an Omega. He can’t stay at the orphanage anymore. They don’t want to deal with unmated Omegas mixed with teenage Alphas and Betas, so he’s torn away from all he knows again. His belongings are shoved in garbage bags and he’s shipped off to a state home for young Omegas. It’s cold and sterile and he hates every second there.

He’s twenty-five when Gerard Argent tries to take revenge on the pack for his daughter. Peter takes down not only Gerard but an entire group of rogue hunters. The Argent matriarch thanks him. He’s promoted to Sentinel Prime. Everyone in Beacon Hills knows his name. He’s a hero but the achievement is lacking without his Guide to share it with.

He’s sixteen when he is granted emancipation. He leaves the Omega home for Stanford. He has a full ride thanks to numerous scholarships. He knows part of the money comes from a fund the Sheriff’s Department set up for him after his dad died, but he doesn’t like to think about that. Instead, he throws himself into his studies. He majors in Criminology because he wants to follow in his father’s footsteps. He applies to the Guide program out of wishful thinking. He throws himself into his studies because he has nothing else. Laura Hale changes that.

He’s twenty-seven and the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department has a one-hundred percent solve rate. He assists the FBI with cases throughout the state. He spends as much time as he can with his growing pack to stave off the loneliness that eats at him. There’s another mixer for Sentinels and Guides coming up in Nevada but he doesn’t think he’ll go. He’s not going to find his Guide there.

He is turning nineteen and Laura throws him a surprise party at the apartment she shares with her siblings. He knows she has a bunch of packmates at Stanford. He’s met them all and Laura has dragged him out of his dorm room—sometimes literally—to socialize with them, but it still comes as a shock when he walks into the apartment and they’re all there with stupid party hats and a banner and a pile of presents. Because of him. He knows he’s crying but he doesn’t care because he’s happy, so fucking happy to finally have people who care about him. Then he remembers that Laura’s graduating in a year and this is Derek’s last year and they’re all going to leave once they’re done with school. His breath comes short. He can’t do it again. He can’t go back to being alone again. He’d rather die.

He’s thirty-two and his pack is back together for the first time in far too long. He feels whole in a way he never has before. Still, he is wary. He knows from unfortunate experience that gatherings like this attract the crazies. He wanders the perimeter while Romulus lopes through the woods. Normally he would worry about the stranger Erica is bringing, but his nieces and nephews have nothing but good things to say about Stiles. A red fox winds around his legs and he feels destiny pulling him across the lawn. He knows who he’s looking for the second he sets eyes on the beautiful darling sandwiched between his nieces.

Stiles gasps and he’s himself again. Mostly. He's dizzy. The whole world is out of focus. He doesn't know where he is. He must have passed out. Fuck. He'd fainted in front of all those people and now they were going to think-

_Darling, the pack is going to love you._

What?

_You're everything I dreamed of, darling. You're perfect._

Who... Peter?

_Yes, darling. I'm so happy to finally meet you._

What's happening? Why can I hear you inside my head?

_Are you not familiar with soulmates?_

Of course he knew what soulmates were. He'd always wished he'd have a soulmate, someone who'd always be with him like Nix but he knew he wasn't that lucky.

_Oh, but you are, darling. ___

__He... he is? Gods, he'd never expected... He'd never even dreamed... and then, Peter Hale...._ _

__A wave of smugness carries along with the words. _A fan, darling?__ _

__Embarrassment washes over him and he can't help the memories that surface. He can feel Peter picking through them, like photographs spread out in front of him, bare for him to see. His childhood in Beacon Hills hearing stories of the Sentinels that his dad worked with. Then Peter Hale had become the youngest Sentinel in Beacon Hills history, and part of the famous Hale pack as well. Stiles had snooped in his father's files and read all the cases Peter had been integral to solving, up until the Argent case. Sorrow hits him like a knife in the gut. His dad had uncovered the Argent's plot to burn the entire Hale family to death. They'd caught Kate Argent before she could hurt the Hales but not until after she'd murdered Stiles's dad, leaving Stiles an orphan and ward of the state._ _

___I'm so sorry, darling. I... We didn't know._ _ _

__He doesn't want to think about that right now. Not ever. He has nightmares about Kate Argent. Panic chokes him, like it does every time he thinks about her. He's going to cry. He doesn't want to cry in front of Peter Hale._ _

__"Shh, darling." Peter's voice—his real, physical voice—is soft and reassuring. "You're safe here."_ _

__Gentle fingers brush the tears away before they can fall. Stiles blinks until the room comes in focus. He's lying on a large, soft bed. The walls of the spacious bedroom he's in are a soothing beige trimmed in reddish-brown. The sheets and curtains are a deep forest green. A door to his right is open, showing a private bathroom. There's a dresser on the wall opposite, set between a closed door and a closet. He spots a couch, a desk, and a mini-fridge. Aside from two decorative prints on the wall, the room is bare of personality._ _

__"I hope this is okay," Peter says. His hand has migrated to Stiles's hair. It takes all of Stiles's willpower not to lean into Peter's touch like an affectionate cat. "Laura insisted on picking everything personally, but we can repaint or find different furniture."_ _

__Stiles blinks. He slides back to lean against the headboard. Peter sits on the side of the bed, his back pressed against Stiles's legs. He seems unable not to touch Stiles, not that Stiles minds. At all. Peter's hand rests on Stiles's right knee. The warm weight is reassuring like one of Laura's hugs._ _

__"What?" he asks, full of eloquence in front of the legendary Sentinel Prime._ _

__Peter's lips quirk like he knows Stiles's thoughts. He probably does. Stiles can feel Peter's presence in his mind, right next to his bond with Nix. If he concentrated on the soulbond, he could probably sense Peter's thoughts as well. Even without that focus he can feel Peter's amusement and joy and growing fondness._ _

__"This is your room, darling," Peter says, words making absolutely no sense. "It can be whatever you like."_ _

__There's a frightening connotation to that statement that Stiles doesn't really want to analyze right now. At least, not without a Xanax. He spots his luggage next to the dresser and slides off the bed in search of anti-anxiety pills. His legs don't seem to want to hold him on the first try. Peter catches him before he can do more than slump. Strong arms wrap around him. His face presses against Peter's chest and he never, ever wants to move._ _

__"I quite agree," Peter says._ _

__What?_ _

__"You feel perfect in my arms, darling. I hope you don't mind, but I feel I may require close contact for a few days."_ _

__He wants Peter to touch him. He wants hugs and gentle caresses and.... Stiles cuts that thought off hastily once he remembers Peter can hear his thoughts. There's no way Peter wants-_ _

__Images of naked bodies and wet lips fill his mind. It's like his half-formed hopes have been given form. He sees himself writhing on silken sheets, gasping and moaning in pleasure as Peter's body presses him against the mattress, pleasuring him until he's delirious. He can feel the warmth of Peter's skin against his and hear the slap-slap of Peter's hips pounding against his ass._ _

__Stiles turns red as a strawberry and stumbles back against the bed. "Sorry! I'm so-"_ _

__He no longer has to imagine what Peter's lips would feel like. His apologizes are cut off by a chaste kiss. He desperately wants to deepen it, to push his tongue between Stiles's-_ _

__Wait. That's not his thought._ _

__Smug satisfaction pours through the soulbond. Belatedly, he realizes that those delicious, dirty images hadn't been a product of his own sex-starved mind. Well, not entirely._ _

__Peter's eyes sparkle when he pulls away. He's smirking. It's a look that makes Stiles's insides clench. He blushes, hoping Peter can't smell the bit of slick wetting his cheeks. Peter's a werewolf, a Sentinel, and an Alpha, he has to know what he's doing to Stiles's body._ _

__Peter brushes his thumb over Stiles's cheek. "You are magnificent, darling."_ _

__He wants to turn away from the compliment but Peter's hold doesn't allow that. He can feel how deeply Peter believes his words. It makes Stiles's usual self-doubt and insecurities fall away. Peter believes it so strongly that Stiles has no choice but to believe it to._ _

__"Are you feeling any better?"_ _

__Surprisingly, he is. His anxiety has calmed for the moment. He blames the tingling warmth suffusing his body. "Y-Yeah."_ _

__Peter pulls his hand away. Stiles feels cold without his touch. "Shall I leave you to settle it?"_ _

__Peter takes a step back. Stiles is surprised at himself as his hand snaps forward, closing around Peter's wrist to keep him near. "No!" He looks away, feeling shy and unsure. "Please?"_ _

__"Of course, darling." The endearment sends a shiver down Stiles's spine. He's never going to tire of hearing that._ _

___And I'll never tire of saying it._ _ _

__Stiles looks up at Peter through his lashes. He's feeling uncharacteristically brave with Peter filling his head. "Stay?"_ _

__"Always."_ _

__He licks his lips. Peter's gaze sharpens. His eyes follow the path of Stiles's tongue with hunger._ _

__He knows what he should do, rationally. He should unpack and settle into this new space, spread his belongings around so the room smells more like him. Peter's presence is distracting, like a beacon pulling him toward shore._ _

__They just met. He doesn't know this man, shouldn't trust him as wholly and unquestioningly as he does. But he does trust Peter. He knows Peter can't lie to him, can't betray him. If he wanted, he could see into the depths of Peter's soul and know Peter as if they were one person. It's tempting to take that deep dive. He's not sure he could come back from that. He's not sure if he'd want to._ _

__His fingers tangle in Peter's shirt, holding him close. Peter's hands rest on Stiles's hips. His touch is light enough that Stiles can pull away if he wants._ _

__He does not want. He wants to press against Peter. He wants to get Peter's scent all over him so that everyone knows he's no longer an unclaimed Omega._ _

__He shifts closer, shuffling his socked feet against the carpet. He feels the pull of Peter's body like a force of gravity. He is a moon caught in Peter's orbit. A little closer and there will be a catastrophic collision._ _

__Peter is interested. He stands still, waiting out the complex play of emotions inside Stiles. He's giving Stiles a choice, letting Stiles make the first move or no move at all. It's entirely in Stiles's hands. He feels flushed with need. It's not unbearable, like a heat would be. He can still think. The longer they stay pressed chest to chest, the more he hopes and wishes and wants._ _

__"You can have whatever you want," Peter whispers into Stiles's hair. His nose brushes Stiles's scalp. "Anything. Everything."_ _

__This shiver runs deeper. He feels it in his teeth and his toes. He presses his forehead against Peter's chest and whimpers. "Do you... Do you think I'm-" He's not sure how to describe this feeling. Greedy? Wanton? Needy?_ _

__Peter chuckles. "By most standards, we've been practically Puritanical. Soulbonds are always this entangling. It's natural to want to feel connected, physically and mentally."_ _

__His face burns. "But the house... The pack...."_ _

__He can feel Peter's laugh against his cheek. "Our house has wonderful soundproofing darling, especially for the Omegas' rooms."_ _

__He doesn't like what that implies about him. Did they think he was going to bring strangers into the house for sex? Omegas have a reputation for needing constant sex but he's never been like that. With the right partner, maybe, but he's never found the right partner. Until now._ _

__"Shh." Peter's hand rubs over his back. "It's natural to crave certain things, given your biology. Whether you act on them is no one's business but your own, but the pack believes a heightened level of privacy is the right of any Omega."_ _

__"Oh." That level of forethought is touching. His biology has always been treated as a hindrance, something to add to the inconvenience of his existence. It meant special housing, special arrangements around his heat schedule, special allowances that others judged him for needing._ _

__"Not here," Peter promises. "You are our treasure."_ _

__Really, how is he expected to resist such sweet promises?_ _

__Stiles leans up, seeking Peter's lips with his own. There is nothing chaste about their second kiss. Peter must feel the want inside of Stiles. His tongue invades exactly like he'd wanted earlier. Stiles opens, inviting Peter into more than his mouth. He relaxes in Peter's arms._ _

__Sensations pull him away from thought. Peter's tongue slides over his own, twisting playfully, seeking out the corners of his mouth. He tastes like mint and honey and something with spice. Large hands slip under Stiles's t-shirt to run along his sides. The heat of Peter's touch ignites a fire inside of Stiles's belly. He's too warm. The clothing against his skin is too much._ _

__Need builds on need until the desire for skin-on-skin contact is unbearable. They frantically remove the barriers between them. He hears something tear. He doesn't care. Peter throws the covers off the bed, then he's helping Stiles up, lifting him onto the sheets. Stiles has a second to feel cold and exposed. Peter fixes that. He covers Stiles with his body, pressing him down into the mattress while his hands roam every inch of Stiles's bare skin._ _

__Stiles isn't much better. The need to touch Peter is overwhelming. He runs his fingers through Peter's hair, reveling in the softness. He touches the tense tendons in Peter's neck, feels the muscles in Peter's arms bunch as Peter lifts Stiles's body and slides a pillow under him. His fingertips trace lines on Peter's back._ _

__Peter breaks the kiss and pulls away. His mouth moves down Stiles's body, sucking on the joint between neck and shoulder until Stiles is writhing in pleasure. He's going to have a mark there. It's not a mating bite—not yet—but it's enough to let everyone know he's taken._ _

___Soon,_ Peter promises. He sends Stiles images of a moonlight ceremony, a trellis of white flowers, holding hands while exchanging rings, the pack howling in celebration. Stiles's immediate response of _unworthy-not allowed-desperate want_ is smothered by _love-acceptance-possessive need_. Peter overrides Stiles's fears with thoughts of forever._ _

__He keens with desire._ _

__Peter's hand curls around Stiles's hip, then down and around to Stiles's slick entrance. He's so eager, they won't need any lube._ _

__"You're a wonder, darling," Peter whispers against Stiles's shoulder. "Absolutely magnificent."_ _

__Peter's finger rubs over Stiles's entrance. He gasps and jerks, body aching to be filled. Peter doesn't make him wait. His finger slides into Stiles's body like they were made to fit together. Maybe they were. Maybe that's what soulmates are, two people who fit together in all the right ways._ _

__He's glad for the soundproofing. He doesn't think he could keep quiet, even if he tried. It's been months since he's had sex. Maybe even a year. He's been busy with finishing his degree and he hasn't wanted for company since the pack adopted him. The stretch of Peter's finger inside of him aches like stretching a stiff muscle. The second finger feels even better than the first. He moans and lifts his hips into Peter's touch._ _

__"That's it, darling. You're doing so well. My beautiful Guide."_ _

__Stiles feels the blush in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He opens his eyes—he doesn't remember closing them, too lost in the sensation of Peter's fingers inside of him—and gapes at Peter's focused attention. Peter's eyes glow blue, the sign of a beta werewolf who's taken a life. To others, it might seems like a threat but it feels like a promise instead. Peter will keep him safe, no matter what._ _

__His eyes stay locked with Peter as Peter's fingers work small moans from Stiles's lips. Peter moves his hand slowly, rhythmically opening Stiles to make way for a rather impressive cock. Stiles can feel Peter's hardness pressing against his thigh, leaving a slick trail of precum on his skin as Peter thrusts minutely, hips jerking in time with the press of Peter's fingers._ _

__A third finger joins the others. It's not enough. He knows he's not stretched as well as he should be but he aches to be full of his mate. "P-Please," he gasps. He tugs on Peter's hair, pulling Peter down into a filthy kiss. He may not have had sex in a while but he still knows how to please a partner. He sucks on Peter's tongue, then pulls away to nip at his lip. "Please. I'm ready. Please, Peter."_ _

__"Just a little more." Peter's fingers move faster. They spread inside of him, working him open more and more._ _

__Peter adds a fourth finger and Stiles keens. He throws his legs over Peter's hips and crosses his ankles behind Peter's back. He uses this new hold to urge Peter forward. Peter's cock leaves a wet line down Stiles's thigh._ _

__"Peter," he whines. "Come on. Please. I need you."_ _

__"I've got you, darling. I'm right here."_ _

__Finally—fucking finally!—Peter pulls his hand away. The tip of Peter's cock presses against his entrance, large and blunt and so close to where Stiles needs. He can tell Peter wants to tease him a little. Stiles can't stand that. He feels like he'll die without Peter inside of him. He reaches between them, moaning when his hand closes around Peter's thick cock—fuck, it's going to feel so good. He nudges Peter forward again with his feet and arches up to meet him._ _

__Peter breeches him. Stiles throws his head back. His breath comes out in one long moan. Peter slides in like a key fitting into a lock. He feels right. He feels perfect. Peter presses in and in and in until their hips are flush and Peter's buried deep. Sex has never felt this good. He wonders if it's a side-effect of the bond, heightening his sensation. Maybe it's just Peter._ _

__"That's it, baby," Peter murmurs against Stiles's lips. He presses soft kisses to Stiles's skin, lips roving, exploring everywhere they can reach. "You feel so good."_ _

__Then Peter moves and Stiles's ability to think is gone. There's only pleasure and need and Peter. He feels like he's on fire from the inside, like each steady push of Peter inside of him stokes the flames a little hotter. His fingers dig into the skin on Peter's back, leaving marks that will no doubt fade before Stiles gets a chance to see them. Each thrust jerks a little gasp out of Stiles._ _

__He's going to lose his mind, but it will be a worthwhile sacrifice. Who needs minds when there are sweat-soaked bodies and tangled limbs and Peter's cock thick and warm inside of him, filling him to the brink._ _

__He wants more. He wants Peter's knot tying them together, Peter's seed pouring into him in wave after wave until it takes root in his belly. He wants to give Peter children, to add to a whole new generation of the Hale Pack._ _

__"Fuck, Stiles." Peter groans into Stiles's neck. "Yes. That. All of that."_ _

__"M' heat's..." Stiles forces the words out between moans. "Not for... month..."_ _

__"It's okay." Peter's fingers dig into Stiles's hips, lifting Stiles up to meet the increasing pace of his frantic thrusts. Pleasure cycles through their bond, building a feedback loop of desperation. "Practice." He bites behind Stiles's left ear. "Gonna. Lots of practice."_ _

__"Yes!"_ _

__A particularly sharp thrust sends Stiles sliding back against the pillows. He raises his arms over his head and plants his forearms against the headboard._ _

__"Perfect," Peter says between elongated teeth. His face is looking a little fuzzy. Stiles can feel the careful control Peter has on his wolf. He can't keep it completely beneath the surface, not with the overwhelming pleasure of his mate driving him wild. He's so focused on not thrusting too hard, not pounding into Stiles with werewolf strength, that his control on everything else slips._ _

__It's mesmerizing. Stiles has never had sex with a werewolf before. He never thought it would be as much of a turn-on as it is right now. All that power and strength, focused on him. It's enough to make him come._ _

__He's so close. He doesn't want to give in yet. He doesn't want it to be over. He doesn't want to give up this maddening pleasure. Gods, he'd live on Peter's cock if he could get away with it._ _

__Peter huffs a laugh. Sharp nails scratch lightly against his skin as Peter shifts his hold. Then they're moving, spinning on the bed until up is down and down is up. His knees hit the mattress on either side of Peter's hips. He has a second to wonder about the sudden change. Then Peter is pulling Stiles's hips down and pushing his own hips up. Peter growls, the sound sending shivers down Stiles's spine. Peter's hips jerk and he's coming, spilling his seed into Stiles's welcoming body._ _

__Peter holds Stiles tight against him as the base of his cock swells. Stiles gasps, eyes wide, mouth forming a perfect O. He's never been knotted before. He's never been with an Alpha but he's imagined what it would be like. His imagination is nothing like reality. Stiles is distantly aware of coming, too wrapped up in the pleasure of Peter's knot stretching his insides. He shouts and writhes, grinding down, pushing himself deeper on Peter's knot._ _

__He's full. So full and Peter's still coming. Peter's hips jerk up with each wave of seed. There's so much of it. He clenches around Peter's knot, his body responding to the instinctual need to keep Peter's seed inside of him._ _

__Stiles feels wrung dry. Even after he's spent, Peter keeps going. His hips grind up into Stiles, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Stiles's system. He can't think. He can't do anything but feel his pleasure and Peter's, so deeply intertwined he's not sure where he begins and Peter ends._ _

__Peter pulls Stiles down against his chest. Stiles blinks. He's hazy. The room's faded. He doesn't know where he is. Doesn't care. There's just Peter and only Peter._ _

__He closes his eyes and lets go of himself._ _

__They are one._ _

____

* * * * *

They emerge from Stiles's room—and he still can't believe all that space is for him—in time for lunch the following day. Stiles is lazy and sore from multiple rounds of sex. It's a pleasant ache, as definite and binding as the mental connection between him and his Sentinel. They've showered. Peter made Stiles wait to get dressed until Peter could fetch clothes from his own closet. Peter's shirt hangs off Stiles's frame, leaving his thoroughly marked neck visible for all to see.

Peter's hand rests on Stiles's lower back as he guides Stiles through the halls of the Hale mansion and down to the dining room where a large portion of the pack has gathered. There are plates piled high with sandwiches and bowls of salad and crisp vegetables. Peter takes a seat at the head of the table, on Talia's left, and pulls Stiles into his lap. Laura smirks from further down the table. Erica and Cora share wicked smiles. Derek looks at them, shakes his head with a fond smile, and sighs.

"Are you settling in alright, Stiles?" Talia asks.

Stiles makes a happy hum against Peter's shoulder. He feels weightless, boneless.

"He was quite pleased with the thoughtfulness of the accommodations," Peter translates for him.

Talia's happiness is a warmth against his back. It's an echo of the pack bond, Stiles realizes, carrying from Peter to Stiles. He thinks he can feel the faint line of a bond forming between himself and the pack. The longer he stays here, interacting with and getting to know the pack, the stronger it will grow. He's not terrified of that like he once would have been. He's already tied, irrevocably. What's one more bond?

Nix barks in agreement from her place in Laura's lap. Nix has accepted their place here with glee.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this happy," Erica says. She's grinning. He smiles back.

Eventually this honeymoon daze will fade. For now he's going to enjoy the way it tempers his ever-present anxiety. He doesn't want to think about the world outside Peter's arms. He doesn't have to, yet.

_No matter what, I'll be with you. Always._

Stiles has never believed promises of the future. The people he loves always leave. Not today, though, and that's all he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make this longer but plot wasn't coming to me. If there's a scene you'd like to see, let me know in the comments. I'm probably going to do a prequel/sequel once I figure out where to go.


End file.
